


A Front Row Seat

by thewinchesterlifestyle



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Castiel (Supernatural)'s Handprint, Castiel and Dean Winchester Have a Profound Bond, Castiel's Grace, Chuck Shurley Being an Asshole, Chuck is God, Dean Winchester's Soul, Episode: s04e22 Lucifer Rising, Good Parent Chuck Shurley, POV Chuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-02
Updated: 2017-06-02
Packaged: 2018-11-08 00:37:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11070393
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewinchesterlifestyle/pseuds/thewinchesterlifestyle
Summary: He chose Chuck Shurley for the front row seat. It was easy to slip into the role of a writer using the pen name Carver Edlund, to write books under the guise of a prophet and recently to allow himself to be pulled into the Winchesters' story for a closer look.It was supposed to be a light hands-on observation, a chance to let himself get a closer look at their story, but in an existence full of disappointments it was hard not to step in and reward the successes.





	A Front Row Seat

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this after re-watching Lucifer Rising with the full knowledge that Chuck was confirmed as god and knowing Chuck's feelings on most of the things that happened throughout Supernatural.
> 
> This focuses mostly on Chuck, Dean and Castiel because of the events of this particular episode. On the off chance that someone reads this wrong and thinks I'm slighting Sam (who I dearly love just as I love Dean and Castiel) I wanted to point out that I wanted to explore WHY Chuck might have brought Castiel back and Castiel's biggest connection at this point in time is purely Dean Winchester.
> 
> This was written on a whim and in an interest of exploring the first instance of Castiel being brought back.

He had been watching his creations, his children, die since the beginning. It was nothing new but Castiel had been one of the few times he’d been able to offer some modicum of comfort in those final moments after Castiel had sent Dean to his brother.

It had been swift, at least, when Raphael had appeared.

The home he’d built for himself, as Chuck Shurley the author of Supernatural, was a disaster and bits of Castiel’s vessel were strewn everywhere. He felt guilt, a dull throbbing kind of pain, at the loss of one of his children. Chuck always did.

He allowed himself a moment to mourn Castiel, to reflect upon the moment he’d created the surprisingly quirky angel, before the feeling of Lucifer’s cage breaking open demanded his attention.

The Winchesters were too close.

Chuck could see them, terrified and blinded as light filled the convent with Lucifer’s radiant grace, and with the smallest ounce of his power he swiftly relocated them on a nearby airplane. The convent went up in a brilliant flash of light and power, wiped from the Earth with only a crater left behind, as Lucifer burst from his cage and onto Earth.

His favorite.

The one he’d loved too much and had damaged irrevocably by gifting him the Mark to contain Amara. Chuck slumped against a nearby wall, eyes closed and body sticky with blood. He knew what was to come and he’d sworn he would let his creations find their own way; he had sworn that he would stop interfering.

Chuck Shurley was his front row seat to his creations in action.

Now he would have to watch as Lucifer cut a bloody, violent path across the Earth in his quest to destroy humanity and fight against Michael’s attempt at putting him back in the cage that he’d railed against so violently, so loudly that it had been impossible not to hear the pain, anger and betrayal radiating off of him every single moment since he’d been locked away.

It had been a painful, foolish mistake that he’d hid away and now Lucifer was free once more. His mistake, a mistake he hated himself for every single day, was out and walking amongst humanity.

Slowly Chuck pushed off the wall and took stock of the room. It would only take him seconds to right everything, to erase the evidence of what had happened but he knew the Winchesters would be heading his way.

They didn’t make him wait very long.

It was easy to slip into the terrified, traumatized prophet Chuck Shurley as he smacked Sam in the face with a toilet plunger and took a little vindictive pleasure in the surprised shout of pain. After all, Sam could have stopped this; he could have resisted Ruby and used his freewill to make the choice not to take that final step that opened the final lock on Lucifer’s cage. He could have listened to Dean's warnings.

“Geez! Ow!”

“Sam?” as if he hadn’t known the instant the Winchesters had stepped into his home. He’d made the noise to draw them to his hiding spot.

“Yeah.” Chuck barely bit back an amused quirk of his lips at the look Sam was giving him for hitting Sam in the face. It had been too much to resist and sometimes it was the simple things in life that made masquerading as a human enjoyable. Front row seats should have perks after all.

“Hey Chuck.”

“So…you’re ok?” a quick glance at both their souls revealed they were more or less fine after the meltdown in the convent. He was sure Dean had _hated_ being placed on an airplane but it was better than being a smoking pile on the ground.

“Well, my head hurts.” Now it really was hard to hold back a chuckle as Sam’s hand moved from his head and Sam gave him a look that told him exactly what he thought about being knocked upside the head with a toilet plunger.

The tone was less than pleased. He _might_ have hit Sam harder than necessary but…he had a bit of pent-up aggression from having his name constantly cursed by his own creations.

Now it was time for Dean to know exactly what he’d missed before Castiel had dropped him in the convent in a last-ditch attempt to stop Sam. “No, I mean, my last vision…. you went, like, full-on Vader. Your body temperature was 150. Your heart rate was 200.” And now for the pièce de résistance. “Your eyes were black.”

“Your eyes were black?”

Oh Dean was _not_ happy about that one, was he? These two really were some of his more interesting creations. He hadn’t thought he’d get to interact with them but now he was more than happy they’d _accidentally_ stumbled upon his books. If he was going to pretend to be a human, insert himself into their story so intrinsically, it only made sense that he’d get a closer look.

And sometimes he couldn’t help himself.

He liked to meddle when it suited him.

“I didn’t know.” That was true. Dean still didn’t look too impressed and he could see the way Dean’s soul was practically writhing at the new information. It was truly a brilliant, near blindingly bright soul.

He was a bit surprised when Dean didn’t press the black eye reveal but the next question wasn’t completely shocking. It had been the very last time Dean had been in this house and the very reason Dean had made it to the convent at all. “Where’s Cas?”

Chuck briefly took in the mark Castiel had left on Dean Winchester’s soul and the little threads of grace woven throughout. “He’s dead.” It actually hurt to admit. Castiel was different and Chuck favored difference even when he wasn't supposed to have favorites. It was refreshing and something he wished he’d focused a little more on with most the angels he’d created before Castiel. There had been something in that moment, when he’d been weaving together Castiel’s very core, that had caused him to make a few changes. “Or gone. The archangel smoked the crap out of him. _I’m sorry_.”

It was the closest he would get to apologizing for anything that had happened since their birth.

As he told them what had happened, answered their questions, he wasn’t expecting Dean’s reaction to Castiel’s death. Dean Winchester who had needed no one but his brother since their father had died.

Dean ‘No Chick-Flick Moments’ Winchester seemed to have formed an unexpected attachment. That was interesting. It was progress. Beautiful, unexpected progress.

“You’re sure? I mean, maybe he just vanished into the light or something.” There was the denial, one of Dean Winchester’s old friends, but Chuck ignored it and kept up the act he was sure both of the Winchesters expected from Chuck Shurley.

He had to sell it after all and he wasn’t going to crack now.

“Oh, no. He, like, exploded. Like a water balloon of chunky soup.” And wasn’t that a disturbing image? He’d actually disturbed himself a bit with that one.

Chuck could see the surprised, shocked flare of pain Dean felt at hearing that Castiel had been destroyed by an archangel. He looked once more at the imprint that Castiel had left behind on Dean’s very soul. Chuck could see that the angel had taken surprising initiative and used his own grace to patch the cracks and holes that Hell had caused in Dean’s brilliantly bright soul.

The little glimmers of Castiel’s own grace seemed to wink at him, surging and soothing Dean, as Chuck watched Dean’s reactions. Michael’s vessel already housed some grace and it wasn’t Michael’s. It was a small wonder that the other angels, Hell-bent on bringing about the apocalypse and damning the world to Lucifer’s wrath, hadn’t reacted to _that_.

“You gotta…” Sam pointed towards his head and Chuck could see exactly what Sam was hinting at.

“Uh…right here?”

Sam moved his hand and Chuck reached for the other side. “Uh, the…” there was a tooth in his hair. How had he missed that one? He’d known about the blood but not the tooth.

“Oh. Oh, god.” Chuck pulled the molar out and regarded it, “Is that a molar? Do I have a molar in my hair?” that was a bit disgusting. “This has been a really stressful day.” His voice wavered, his hands shook and Chuck let the horror of the situation show on his face as the boys watched him.

He'd hated watching Castiel destroyed.

“Cas, you stupid bastard.” Another surprising flash of pain through Dean’s soul as the Righteous Man’s thoughts turned towards Castiel. Had Dean actually allowed himself to get attached to the angel who had pulled him out of Hell? Chuck had been watching them, he always watched them, but somehow he hadn’t noticed that Dean Winchester was actually forming an attachment to Castiel.

Dean Winchester who hadn’t believed in angels or anything greater. Dean Winchester, who hated himself in such a way that Chuck was sometimes in awe of it, had allowed himself to actually start to care for someone other than Sam and Bobby.

It was a bit breathtaking.

It was a little heartbreaking considering everything.

“Stupid? He was trying to help us.”

 _No_ , Chuck thought to himself, _He was trying desperately to help **Dean**_. It had been more than clear in Castiel’s final moments as his thoughts had been solely with Dean as he’d offered up a prayer for Dean’s safety and success. Castiel who was a good son, who believed and fought to do what he believed Chuck would want. Castiel who fought for Chuck's creations and who mourned their losses.

“Yeah, exactly.” Dean’s soul was showing a surprising amount of emotion about Castiel and Chuck knew that Dean’s soul, even if Dean's conscious didn’t remember, remembered Castiel finding him in Hell, freeing him and gently putting him back together with painstaking care.

The evidence of it was written all over Dean’s soul and in the fact that Castiel had gripped Dean’s soul so tightly, so protectively against his grace, that he’d left a permanent mark behind. It was entirely possible that Dean’s soul was reacting so strongly because it did remember what Castiel had done. But there was also a part of Dean's conscious fully aware that was also experiencing a feeling of loss.

Chuck listened in to the voices of his children, letting Dean and Sam fade to the background, as he checked in to see what was happening now that Lucifer had been released from his cage.

Dean’s mind flashed to the bloodied mark he’d made in preparation for the possibility of angels showing up. A mark Chuck hadn’t noticed him drawing, so lost to his thoughts and watching Lucifer.

He allowed himself to observe the Winchesters interacting with angels other than Castiel. He watched the defiance, the anger and disgust well within Dean as he spoke to them. The Righteous Man was furious.

It was easy to see that Dean wanted nothing more than to kill every angel in the room and hunt down the rest. Dean’s anger was nearly incandescent as it writhed underneath his skin but Dean kept a good hold on it. Only the tip of his fury showed.

Dean’s bloodied hand finally slammed down on the symbol he’d drawn and Chuck watched as the angels were banished miles away in a brilliant flash of light. “Learned that from my friend Cas you son of a bitch.”

 _My friend_. He marveled at the small change in Dean Winchester. It was rewarding to see that some of his creations could grow and adapt, that they could change for the better instead of needing his constant guidance.

Silence filled the room as Chuck reflected on what was to come. Dean’s anger was nearly palpable and he knew it would only get worse once Dean found out he was Michael’s true vessel. It would be even worse when he found out Sam was Lucifer’s.

“This sucks ass.”

* * *

A small, insignificant part of him felt guilty sending Becky at the Winchesters. A tiny, tiny part that wasn’t even worth mentioning. The rest of him was far too amused. It was just one more little… _poke_ at Sam for driving the final nail in the coffin that was the apocalypse.

It might be petty.

It was completely petty but there were only so many ways to get true enjoyment and it really was the little things in life that made it worthwhile. Watching failure after failure encouraged being petty when he could.

He pointedly ignored Lucifer finding a temporary vessel, Nick’s pain at his loss was echoing as he said _yes_ , while he looked at all the players currently moving on the board.

The boys were not going to stand a chance. Not against beings so much more powerful, angels and demons set against them and almost impossible odds for success. There was always a small chance, a little hope that he hoped his creations would cling to, and as he glanced around the destroyed room prepared to clean up an idea formed.

_Castiel_

A small, affectionate smile crossed his face at the thought of Castiel breaking ranks and setting fire to the rules as he sided with Dean Winchester. An angel choosing a human, a flawed human, over _the plan_. There was always a special place in his heart for the underdog, for the unique individual who broke rank and went down a completely unexpected path.

The surprising attachment and affection that Dean held for Castiel only solidified his decision. The Righteous Man needed all the help and support he could get because the path ahead was rough, bloody and devastating.

And he was tired of being disappointed.

It was effortless to recreate Jimmy Novak’s body, Castiel’s perfect vessel, while making sure Jimmy was settled in his own Heaven. He’d been a good, faithful man with a pure heart and he had earned peace. The mess around Chuck disappeared as though it had never been and Jimmy’s still body laid before him in the next instant whole and perfect.

That finished he turned his attention elsewhere. With great care he focused on Castiel, on his son’s grace and the very essence that made Castiel different, as he started to bring Castiel back to life once more.

He wove stardust, light, pure creation and the very things that made Castiel unique together as Castiel's grace began to form once more.

In the background of his awareness Chuck could feel the wave of emotion pouring off of Dean as he learned that he was Michael’s vessel. Horror, disgust and shock swelled inside of Dean as Zachariah relished the Winchesters’ reactions. Chuck could see the angel was going to try to force Dean’s hand, as though he could possibly break the iron will that guided Dean so easily. Dean was the Righteous Man for a reason and that reason wasn’t to break so effortlessly at the tiniest hint of pressure. How could Zachariah think the human meant to house Michael would be so easily bent?

Before him Castiel came back to life in a warm, bright and beautiful flare of grace that lit up the entire block. He kept back the damage, no point in worrying the humans or alerting the Winchesters to who he was really was, as he guided Castiel back into Jimmy’s body. Chuck savored the feeling of creation, of watching his son come back into being, before he focused once more.

He stepped back into the shadows and let go of his hold on Castiel allowing his son to wake once more. Castiel came to awareness healthy, whole and full of brilliant, rebellious grace.

This was the least he could do, the smallest gift he could offer for the suffering Dean had borne since he was a child and the suffering that was to come. A companion and protector. A confidant and a strong warrior who would have his back.

_A friend._

His lips quirked. He had watched Dean for years, watched him grow and learn, but he’d never expected the budding friendship between Dean and Castiel. Chuck knew that it hadn’t been the plan for Castiel to reach Dean, none of the angels had expected Castiel to reach the Righteous Man, but Castiel had cut a bloody and violent path through Hell in his quest to reach the brightest human soul in existence even when it was drenched in the horrors of Hell.

That should have been the first clue and if he’d paid a bit more attention he might have noticed it. Then it wouldn’t have been a shock to see it burst into color in front of him. Castiel disappeared, launching towards where the Winchesters radiated pain and barely concealed fear as Zachariah tormented them.

In an existence full of disappointments, he was more than willing to offer a reward for the successes.

A bright flare of dying grace caught his attention as Castiel dropped into the room where the Winchesters and several angels stood. The vicious warrior he knew Castiel to be dispatched another angel, more dying grace going up in a flash and then Castiel turned his attention on Zachariah.

 _“How are you…”_ Zachariah was stunned, confused and Chuck could feel a hint of fear in his son as he stared at the returned form of Castiel. He looked on Zachariah in disappointment and felt no pity.

_“Alive? That’s a good question. How did these two end up on that airplane? Another good question. ‘Cause the angels didn’t do it. I think we both know the answer, don’t we?”_

_“No. That’s not possible.”_ But Chuck could feel, could hear, Zachariah’s thoughts as he took in the implication that _he_ had stepped in after centuries of silence. He didn’t want to be involved but his hand had been forced. And Dean had earned a reward in the form of Castiel.

_“It scares you. Well it should. Now put these boys back together and go. I won’t ask twice.”_

Chuck could feel Zachariah’s grace fixing the damage he’d wrought in the Winchesters before he took off for Heaven, fear and anger twisting his grace, as Castiel focused on the Winchesters once more. Zachariah was corrupt. Another disappointment and Chuck knew this wouldn’t be the last time Zachariah earned his discontent.

He could feel the wonder, surprise and pleasure coming from Dean at the sight of Castiel alive and as he watched them interact he knew he’d made the right choice restoring Castiel and giving him back to Dean. It was a fitting reward for one of his creations not disappointing him.

They stood a better chance and he wanted to give Castiel the chance to experience his creations in a way that no other angel had seemed interested in bothering with. Humans on a whole were not horrible, they were broken and flawed, but they were also fascinating and beautiful.

Castiel had always been fascinated with them when other angels thought them worthless and below notice.

He hoped that Castiel would continue to question, continue to learn and grow, instead of failing him like so many others had. Castiel’s resurrection was just as much a reward for Castiel as it was for Dean.

This was another experiment and it was one he hoped succeeded. He’d taken the measure of the Winchesters, of Castiel, and he hoped for success.

Sam had stumbled, he’d fallen and cracked open Lucifer’s cage but the past had shown the youngest Winchester would find his feet again. Dean would drag all of them to the finish and if he had to he’d carry them over the line. And Castiel, his amazingly rebellious son, would put his fierce loyalty and power towards their cause even knowing what it might cost.

Grace flared and Chuck almost laughed at the sight of sigils carved into the Winchesters’ bones. Both were heavily warded, thoroughly protected, but Dean’s had a few more additional wards.

It wasn’t surprising now that he’d looked closely and noticed that Dean’s affection for Castiel was returned twenty-fold by the angel who had used his own grace to thread Dean together when it hadn’t been necessary. Uriel had certainly been right about Castiel's attachment but Castiel’s feelings for Dean were not a weakness.

They were a surprising strength he wished the other angels would learn. If they did they had a better chance of turning from constant disappointment into success.

Chuck was tired of disappointment.

He watched the Winchesters and Castiel. Something told him this wouldn’t be the last time he interacted with them in the course of their existence. Their story was far too fascinating and he couldn’t help the warm swell of affection they had somehow inspired in him upon their births.

There was something about them. Something that made them stand out when others faded in the background as his gaze skipped over them. They tried and they failed and they made mistakes but they pushed forward. It was impressive and he had a feeling his children were in for a surprise if they thought it was going to be smooth sailing towards the apocalypse.

“Good luck.”

**Author's Note:**

> Chuck's headspace is a very... _different_ place to explore. I also watched a YT video focused on Chuck as I wrote this. He does a bunch of things after interacting with the Winchesters for the first time despite the fact that he explains to Dean that he decided to be hands off. 
> 
> But Chuck was not completely hands off when it came to Dean, Sam and Castiel. They seemed to be exceptions and I thought it might be interesting if that might be because, in some way, they were successes when he expressed how much disappointment his creations gave him.
> 
> Maybe...maybe I'm completely insane and this whole little experiment of mine was way out in left field. I hope that there was someone who liked this take on Chuck's thoughts and I also hope that my explanation that this focused more on Chuck, Dean and Castiel made sense. And you have to admit that Chuck NAILED Sam in the face with that plunger when you know he knew exactly who was coming through that doorway.


End file.
